


be the keith to my lance?

by rmaowl



Category: Adventure Time, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Hamilton - Miranda, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Squip, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Candy, Cosplay, Costumes, Dessert & Sweets, Embarrassment, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Light Angst, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Some Plot, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trick or Treating, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmaowl/pseuds/rmaowl
Summary: Michael’s costume is Keith. Jeremy’s costume is Lance. It’s a Halloween love story!"Get over here, you useless bisexual!" Chloe calls out loudly, hands cupped around her mouth. She sounds drunken, despite the fact that she hasn't touched a drop. Goddamnit. Is she riding a sugar rush already?"Chloe, you can't just— that's outing—" Jeremy begins to sputter rather uselessly. Perhaps Chloe's right. Perhaps he is a useless bisexual, but the fact of the matter is that he doesn't like like Michael! Not that Michael isn't a great guy, but Jeremy's hardly met him, right? That's reasonable, right? Speaking of Michael, he's staring straight at Jeremy. Oh god. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Those are my friends, I swear. The, um, the Bubbline and the Eliza and the... fucking... puzzle pieces."





	be the keith to my lance?

**Author's Note:**

> abt the puzzle piece costumes... uh... https://youtu.be/oOzam4Ao2Ww i love my boys

Jeremy slips the carefully-crafted Blue Paladin helmet over his head with a grin, checking out his appearance in the mirror. Sure, he's a loser, but he wears it with pride. If confidence is key, the fact that he's mildly confident in his handmade costume's ability to not fall apart within seconds has to mean _something._ He's incredibly excited to go out and trick-or-treat with his friends, despite the fact that he might be "too old" in some people's eyes. Jeremy could easily pass for an awkward, acne-ridden, gangly twelve-year-old, if that counts for anything.

Anyways.

Brooke's swinging by with her mother's car to pick everyone up. She's due to arrive at Jeremy's house in fifteen minutes or so, according to her last text, which is accompanied by an array of irrelevant and girly emojis. Jeremy wants to make sure he looks alright before she appears in his driveway. He can't delay his friend group's departure in any way without rapidly beginning to hate himself, no matter how insignificant it may be to them. He doesn't want to ruin his own night before it's even started. After all, he's the person who's been pushing for _one last Halloween spent trick-or-treating, please? All the parties make me sick, I can't handle them anymore, don't you remember what happened—_

Yeah. They'd conceded pretty quickly after that.

One last night of innocuous childhood fun. He'll be done after that. He'll submit to "acting his age." He'll stop watching cartoons, including the one with the character he's currently dressed as. He only needs one last night.

A distant call of his name startles Jeremy out of his introspective state. Guilt gnaws at him as he stumbles towards his front door, clad in clanky, immovable Paladin armor. His bayard is clutched tightly in his hand, hanging lowly at his side.

A pained "sorry" spills from his lips as he flings open the door. Brooke glares at him, sweet puppy eyeliner and all. Chloe adorns a twin glare from the passenger seat beside her.

"Stop. Stop that," Brooke growls in a failed attempt to be threatening. She ends up sounding like a kicked puppy.

What is it with the _puppies?_ Jeremy doesn't want to think about her sexy dog costume and the party she wore it to any longer than he has to.

He gulps pathetically and clambers into the car. Brooke continues to glare adorably, up until she turns away and begins driving to the neighborhood they agreed upon starting with. Chloe is as venomous as ever, although Jeremy knows that she secretly cares; she simply expresses it differently.

They reach the neighborhood before Jeremy fully registers anything going on around him, consumed by his own thoughts. He resurfaces from them reluctantly and proceeds to clumsily exit the car. Whoops.

Rich and Jake are in some dorky couple's costume or other, Jeremy notes with a small quirk of his lips. He's happy for them, even if this is another dumb "yes homo" joke that they're sure they don't mean; Jeremy's still betting on them being in very, very repressed gay love. Brooke and Chloe are dressed as Princess Bubblegum and Marceline the Vampire Queen, respectively, which succeeds in making his smile grow wider. He's surrounded by couples and he doesn't hate it, scarily enough. Christine's the only single one, aside from Jeremy himself; she's dressed up as as an incredibly realistic Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton. She really puts her all into everything she does, doesn't she?

The friend group darts from house to house, holding out their excessively-personalized bags in order to receive fistfuls of assorted sweets. Jeremy finds himself relaxing soon enough, careless laughter falling from his lips. He's enjoying himself.

One last night.

An excited gasp sounds from behind him, but it's quickly stifled. Jeremy turns around, confused, only to be met with a red-faced Red Paladin.

"Keith!" Jeremy exclaims, easily recognizing the character. He can feel his expression shifting, his entire face lighting up. His blue eyes _gleam._ "That's awesome! Did you make the armor yourself?"

"I did, yeah," the Red Paladin admits with a laugh and a proud grin. "What about you?"

"Yeah! It took forever, but it was worth it, I think."

"Dude, it totally was! You look great!"

Jeremy smiles sheepishly, a warm feeling blooming in his chest. "Thanks, man." He pauses uncertainly, biting his lip before opening his mouth again. "Would you be the Keith to my Lance? Just for a few photos? Only if you're comfortable, of course."

"I'm down! The name's Michael."

"I'm Jeremy—"

"Get over here, you useless bisexual!" Chloe calls out loudly, hands cupped around her mouth. She sounds drunken, despite the fact that she hasn't touched a drop. Goddamnit. Is she riding a sugar rush already?

"Chloe, you can't just— that's _outing—_ " Jeremy begins to sputter rather uselessly. Perhaps Chloe's right. Perhaps he _is_ a useless bisexual, but the fact of the matter is that he doesn't _like like_ Michael! Not that Michael isn't a great guy, but Jeremy's hardly met him, right? That's reasonable, _right?_ Speaking of Michael, he's staring straight at Jeremy. Oh god. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Those are my friends, I swear. The, um, the Bubbline and the Eliza and the... fucking... puzzle pieces."

"The fucking puzzle pieces?" Michael snorts abruptly, tension easing from his shoulders as he dissolves into laughter. Jeremy didn't even realize that Michael was tense.

"Yes. I hate them," he mutters bitterly.

"You don't mean that!" Jake is _obnoxious._ His hands are cupped around his mouth, until he lowers them to draw Rich in for an overdramatic kiss, because _of course he does._ The kiss is perfectly worthy of a soap opera or some stupid shit like that. God _fucking_ damnit.

"I'm so sorry," Jeremy whispers, reddened face buried in his hands with complete and utter shame. Michael pats him on the back sympathetically. At least Christine is behaving.

"Listen, uh... let's take a few pictures now, and afterwards we could exchange numbers? Y'know, so we could... talk. Hopefully in the near future." Michael's sentence sounds choppy and awkward, uncharacteristic for the confident, self-assured Michael that Jeremy's known for somewhere around ten minutes. Oh well.

"Yeah, man, that'd be— that'd be _great._ " Jeremy laughs nervously, fidgeting. "Thanks. Sorry about my friends."

"Nah, you're fine," Michael reassures, then ushers him over for a few photos. Rich and Jake's catcalls provide _lovely_ ambience, and thus Jeremy _doesn't_ want to punch them. He _doesn't._

The next day, November first, Michael texts him. It's all too surprising, and Jeremy thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will work out. Maybe Halloween wasn't destined to be the _one last night_ he so desired. Maybe there won't _be_ a last night. _Ever._

Jeremy's willing to see where it goes. 

As doubtful as he sounds, as pessimistic as he seems, Brooke catches him smiling like an idiot when he receives the text and will never let him live it down, so. There's that. 

Useless bisexual indeed. 


End file.
